


Dark Age Tales

by GoodtimeGambler



Series: 10 Snapshots [1]
Category: Destiny (Video Games)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Gen, Lore Compliant, M/M, drifter/oc near the end, tws at chapter beginnings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-10
Updated: 2019-04-29
Packaged: 2020-01-07 14:47:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 9,006
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18412820
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GoodtimeGambler/pseuds/GoodtimeGambler
Summary: Ten snapshots of life in the Dark Age, as seen by one vicious man and his ghost.





	1. Vicious Repercussions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A Vicious man learns how unforgiving Void Light can be.

**Warning: mildly graphic depictions of frostbite,** **permanent** **wounds.**

* * *

 

Vicious was the first one on the Ketch. This was, of course, by design. By and large, he was the distraction. “Can I get out yet?” He slammed his head into the top of the tiny, tiny maintenance corridor by accident. He wasn’t small enough for this shit.

There was a snort from his earpiece, “Man, you’re funny.” That was one of his teammates; Stella. She was a massive goddess-looking woman with thick, curled black hair. They were almost the same size, but she had four inches on Vicious, at least. Her voice was accented with a tone he’d never heard before.

“Stella I swear if you had to stuff yourself in here you’d complain too.” Vicious scrabbled for purchase to pull himself forward. What a mess. The three of them were on the Ketch to steal back some big fucking generator thing. Supposedly. Lucky for them the ship was close enough to earth that they could get on without being seen.

Correction. _Vicious_ could get onboard without being seen.

She laughed at his misery, “You bet I would!” There was a pause over their channel, “But! You’re the only one who can hold themselves long enough with that many Eliksni.”

“Fine, fine. Flattery works.” Vicious sighed quietly. Maybe three hundred more meters until he was above the hangar. Then he could bust out and start hitting things.

“Five minutes left.” Myst sounded calm, as per usual.

Vicious made a face. “Yeesh I know.” He tried to speed up, getting even more tired of the cramped space than before.

“It’s time.” It felt like ages before Lalania, Vicious’ ghost, spoke up.

“ **FINALLY.”** Vicious shouted louder than he had since his first rez, and braced one of his arms out against the side of the maintenance corridor. His hydraulic armor made short work of forcing the surface to explode outward in a curl of metal and harsh, grating sound. Then he forced a wave of Cold light from his body, expanding the hole until he could throw himself out.

He didn't expect to fall _straight_ to the floor. He wasn't sure, exactly, what he _had_ expected.

There was a sympathetic, “Oooooh,” from Myst. He piped up, “You okay?” He was the orchestrator of all this nonsense, and the youngest of them by far. Sweet guy, real nice. Very prone to worry.

“Yep. Yep I’m still only dead on the inside.” Vicious laughed and peeled himself off the floor. Eliksni were drawing their weapons, scrambling for spears and halberds. Someone threw a wrench at him.

Myst made a noise. “When you get back we’re going to have a talk.”

Lala laughed.

Vicious just called the Cold light to his palms and started to fight. The metal under his feet started to dissolve, he couldn't help that. Vicious went from skiff to skiff, using them as cover _and_ disintegrating their thrusters. They wouldn’t be able to follow the team once he was done.

A shot here, a shot there. With the concentrated, pure force of light and will, Vicious never got hit. The projectile energy from Eliksni weapons couldn’t get past the air buzzing with all-consuming, deadly Cold light.

Vicious barely paid attention to the status updates the rest of the team gave him over the channel. All of his mind was dedicated to the Cold. His body, too. It pulsed, stung, drained, and sucked the heat from him all at once. Vicious had no idea how much time passed before Lala sent a pulse of electricity to his armor, vying versus the light for his attention.

“We’re going.” Her bell tone wasn’t happy, amused, or even positive. She sounded...angry. That was unlike Lalania. Before Vicious could move to leave, he was transmatted. The feeling was distinct and staticky. He didn’t get a chance to say anything before Lala’s voice filled the channel for him. “Stella we need Bright light, now.”

Vicious stumbled as he hit the floor of Myst’s ship interior, not expecting the transmat to throw off his balance so much. Then again, he realized, his legs were mostly numb. “I’ss cold in here.” For some reason his jaw felt stiff.

“It’s not fucking cold in here.” Stella sounded alarmed, maybe panicked. Her fingertips lit with light, warm as the sunshine in summer. She clamped her hands over the parts of Vicious’ armor that were closest to his skin. Lala used a transmat to yank off Vicious’ armor, leaving him in cold, stiff clothes. Stella seized the opportunity to shove her hands under his shirt.

 **“HEY BRUH, SISTER, MY DUDE, HOMIE, HOME-SLICE BREAD-SLICE!”** Vicious absolutely screeched nonsense at her, trying to wrest his way out of Stella’s grasp, _“That shit burns!”_

Myst jumped up from the pilot’s seat, leaving his companion to man the controls. “What’s wrong?”

“Look at his fingers.” Stella sounded horrified, borderline sick.

Vicious whipped his hands up to eye-level to look at them. Left hand, pinky, first joint up. Left hand, middle, last joint up. Right hand pinky, last joint up. Right hand, ring finger, last joint up.

Those parts of his fingers were frostbitten black. The backs of his hands were cracked and bleeding with cold. Some of his skin was _gone_ in places. Probably still inside his gloves.

Myst looked sickened, one hand over his mouth. “Can your companion fix that? Is it normal?”

Vicious blinked. He hadn’t noticed a thing. The burn from Stella’s hands was nothing to him now. He couldn’t even feel it. “Uhh. Uhhh... Probably!” Vicious was alarmed. He didn’t _know_ if Lala could fix this. Well... Presumably she could. She could fix everything else about him. Even some of the nastier personality traits.

“I can’t fix it! It won’t _heal!”_ Lala materialized in front of Myst. “I could get _rid_ of them, but that doesn't help!”

Stella seemed morbidly curious, she was still looking at the frostbite. “Is it because of the light?”

Vicious blinked again. Ah, yes. The freezing feeling of his purple light type, the place it got it’s name. Cold.

He took a deep breath, then another. “Get rid of them, then.”

“What?” Myst and Lala jolted at the same time.

“You can’t be serious!” That was Myst, taking a step back from him.

“No! Just- no!” Lala’s shell spun faster than a runaway dreidel.

Vicious set his mouth in a sarcastic line. “Lala, I’ll cut them off.” His tone was a warning at best, a promise at worst. Of course, he was panicking inside. He could feel himself shiver, sweat, and start to shake. Vicious knew that he _could_ do it, but he didn’t want to. He really, really didn’t want to. He blamed the shaking on exhaustion, the sweating on Bright light, and shivering on recovering from the chill. “Look away.” Vicious glanced to Stella and Myst’s tone flat.

Lala caved, “ **FINE.** ”

And then...some parts of his fingers were missing entirely.

* * *

Music:

_[“Cut the Cord” Shinedown](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uHeJbjkfDIw) _

_[“Riptide” Unlike Pluto](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vTq3ESDO9n8) _

_[ “Emotion” Ar Tonelico II: Melody of Metafalica ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lKliWkV3c-Q) _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had the idea that Light types were called different things in the Dark Age. Cold for Void, Shock for Arc, and Bright for Solar. I feel like Void, Arc, and Solar came to be the subclass element names after a lot of research and debate.


	2. Lord Saladin and the Vicious man

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Saladin’s first encounter with our main character. A common goal puts them on the same side, but for how long?

**Warning: canon typical violence.**

* * *

 

Vicious hurtled a wall of Cold light at the enemy line, absolutely livid. Warlord this, territory that, and now his favorite town to stop at is under practical siege because of some idiot named Freederich plus his band of assholes. Unbelievable. He’d picked up the town’s radio signal some miles out, and they were reporting on the state of the place with their short range broadcast system. It was almost a small city, had shops and a radio station, a mayor, all that good shit. The fighting, apparently, started about a day ago, and the only reason the town wasn’t fucked was a few visitors who found it in their hearts to defend the place. The guards were mortals, no match for the Undead.

Vicious’d tuned into the radio station to listen again before he started to fuck up Freederich’s men. They were doing some real good reporting on enemy positions. The voice wasn’t the usual broadcaster, that was clear. Probably somebody passing through or new in town with some combat experience. He’d have to thank them later for saving his favorite place to relax.

Someone buzzed his comn channel.

“‘Sup fucker?” Vicious had every right to answer that way. _They_ buzzed _him_ after all. Vicious shot off a burst from his smg at a panicking Undead. They really hadn’t been expecting somebody to show up behind ‘em. Two Undead were down for good already, and, while there were quite a few, not all of their force was Undead. Some of the people were clearly mortal. They certainly hadn’t gotten back up after he shot them dead.

The voice that responded to his obscenity was stern, “Are you defending the city?” Yeah, new guy. Everyone local called it a town. Deep vocal tone, cool, calm way of speaking. Combat veteran.

“I’m aimin’ to. How can I help?” Vicious knew he was _already_ helping, but he didn’t have a good enough view of the field to know what spots were weakly enforced. He just needed to give these guys a good scare and kill the leader, that’d send them packing. A grenade landed at his feet, Vicious picked up the burning Bright bitch and hurled it back. Cold light snuffed the flames remaining on his hand instantly.

Vicious could hear someone talking behind the person on coms. “Keep pushing through that area. When you can, hit the city outskirts south side.” Lalania flashed an indicator on his armor to show him which direction was south. Lala knew her Undead well enough to know that he wasn’t paying attention to directions.

South side was well structured. Stone buildings, non-residential. It could take a hit without being decimated by the action. “You got it m’ dude. Eyes on the leader?” There was a sound like a forest fire, and Vicious shot out of his cover just in time for an Undead asshole to destroy the fallen tree he’d been sheltering behind. Damn thing was incinerated.

Vicious screamed, but not from fear. Cold welled up in his body, shielding him. The Bright Undead recovered fast to launch himself forward again. Vicious caught him by the throat with one hand, and _crushed_. The hydraulics hidden in his gauntlet made short work of the Undead’s throat. Lala yanked his little floating partner from its hiding place, and, as its Undead faded, Vicious caught it in his hand.

“He’s why you need to hit south. We’re pushing from inside the city,” the sound of gunfire echoed on the other end of the line, “We need someone to get him, he’s at the back of the line.”

“You wait ‘till this fight’s over, _then_ you bring him back. I see you two in this fight again and you die for real.” He brought the little thing close to his face, so close that he could see the caustic purple shine in his own eyes reflecting off it’s metal shell. Then he let go. Better things to do than fuck around with a golf-ball sized nuisance. “Mhmm yeah I can get him.” He addressed the person on coms again.

“Yikes.” Vicious dodged a flying _something_ that looked like Shock light. Then he brought up a coffin Shield. Cold light formed the shape in his hands, and then expanded outward into an almost clear barrier. It blocked several projectiles as Vicious sprinted south. Bright, Shock, Bright, Bright, Shock...no Cold. If he was the only Cold light user here, that’d make things a lot easier.

Vicious lobbed grenades over his shield as he ran, not really aiming. If he threw enough of them, everybody’d have to run for cover regardless of where they were. The further he ran, the more he saw the problem. South side was dense with trees and boulders that rolled down a nearby mountain. The perfect cover. Some meters off, Vicious cut his shield and disappeared into the treeline. Night-time was nice for stealth, but he eyes would give him away. He didn’t have long before enemy forces started to look in the trees for him.

Good thing he didn’t need much time to move the remaining distance to the back of Southern enemy lines. He could hear somebody shouting orders. That’d be Freedrich. Vicious reached behind himself to yank a good ol’ auto rifle off his lower back. He mowed down three people before they started firing back. Those three were real close to Freedrich, as it turned out, as a red-faced man who must’ve been six feet tall spun out of cover with an rpg.

 _“Oh fuck.”_  Vicious pulled at the Cold for all he was worth, and jumped when the coffin shield raised. The impact was immense.

Vicious screamed again, but this time...he was furious. How _dare_ this fucker? How _dare_ any of these assholes attack this town over some kind of petty power-grab? Cold light shot out from his being. Things started to turn to dust around Vicious. He dropped the rifle in favor of raising his hands. A tangible barrier of purple, freezing light formed, and Vicious _shoved_ it forward.

Everything within five meters of the roaming barrier was turning to dust. It left a furrow in the earth. Freedrich didn’t have a chance to run for his life. Some of the Undead ran to save themselves, some of them didn’t make it far. Vicious let his rage fuel the Cold, sending it after anyone he could still see. The attackers broke rank fast.

After several minutes the voice over his com channel quietly chimed in, “It’s over.” He sounded tired, but relieved. The relief was hard to hear, but there.

Vicious sent his remaining feelings into the air. Straight up from him, a pillar of Cold light shot into the sky. A victory call. “I’m coming into town. Meet me near the edge?”

“Halfway.” The channel clicked off.

Vicious plucked his auto off the forest floor, clipping it across his lower back. “Well, Lala, what’cha think?” He straightened the cloak that’d bunched itself up at the nape of his neck because of the draw-string.

“He did help the defense. As long as we aren’t a threat I can’t see why it would be dangerous.” Lalania’s articulate bell-tone filled his personal channel. All the better for her not to be seen. “My scans are showing a clear battle-field, and the immediate treeline looks clear too.”

A little flash of light illuminated the ground about thirty meters ahead. An Undead stood up and looked around. They seemed pretty alarmed. Vicious called to them “Your fellows ran. Go on, fight’s over!” The Undead raised their hands in a clear gesture of surrender, and started picking their way over the field. Letting them go was just good manners at this point. Fight was over fair and square, no use in killing somebody now.

The Undead passed within a few feet of Vicious, and stopped.

 

He spoke hesitantly. “Thanks for, uh, letting me go.”

 

Vicious shrugged. “Hey, fight’s over. We gotta have some kin’a courtesy, this ain't a barn. Get back safe as you can.” Vicious kept walking, and no bullet hit him in the back.

True to his word, a man met Vicious halfway across the field. “You let that one go.” It was almost a question.

“Yeesh, of course I did. We aren’t animals.” Vicious cracked his neck, “Thanks for helping out the town.”

“It’s my duty.” He turned to walk with Vicious back into town.

Vicious winced “That sounds a lot like work. I’m allergic to work.”

There was a ‘hmph’ kind of noise. “That isn’t what the city residents told me.”

“Aw man. They’re telling people my shit now? Was it Melphia?” Vicious frowned, that was a damn shame. He  couldn’t, _wouldn’t_ , do much about it, but that meant he’d become too much a regular in the area. “Myst?”

“Does it matter?”

“No, but I don’t want everyone and their mamma knowing where I’m at or who I am.” He signed, hopping over a dead body. Mortal. There were more dead than he’d have liked, but oh well. Maybe if they had any good gear he could buy it off whoever looted the bodies. There was nothing immediately catching his eye.

“They didn’t say your name, only that their best fighter was finally here.” Vicious finally looked at him. _Really_ looked at him. The armor was a familiar pattern.

He smiled, relaxing his shoulders once the stone buildings were on either side of them. Being back in town was nice. Of course, there were some bullet holes, scorched bits, the usual aftermath of a fight, but no dead. Barely any blood, really. “That’s pretty nice of them. The people here are good ones. Really, thanks for keeping them safe.”

“Hey! Hey, you’re here!” An excited voice called toward Vicious, and he stopped walking to turn and see who it was. Of course, he already _knew_ but it’d be nice to face her when she-

A body slammed into his. Her arms were around his middle in an instant, and she was laughing.

“Oof! Mel, be gentle! Is everyone okay?” Vicious laughed with her. Mel was his favorite person in the whole damn town. She was bright, smart, kind, friendly. An honest blessing to anyone she was around. She was mortal, but that was fine. Vicious would be long gone from the town by the time she...best not to think about it. Vicious didn’t expect to feel something press around his calves. An animal. He pried himself away from Mel to look.

Wolves.

Mel released him in favor of couching down to shove her face into the fur of a wolf. One of the many. The beast huffed, but tolerated it.  “Everyone made it thanks to them.” She pointed at the man, who was waiting with one hand resting on a wolf’s head.

“That’s good to hear. The Iron Wolves really are everything I’ve heard and more.” Vicious smiled at him, “You’re an honorable lot. Name’s Vicious.”

“Lord Saladin Forge. We were passing by when the assault started.” He sounded neutral, perhaps displeased.

Vicious picked up on it, “Had other things to do?”

Myst was sidling up behind Mel and the wolf, “Hey hey hey buddy, you’re in one piece!” They interrupted Saladin, but it wasn’t like the mto care.  “Nice to see you again.”

“Myst, mind your manners! Glad you’re here, but you cut the big man off,” Vicious sighed and shook his head. “Lord?”

Saladin paused, obviously weighing what to say, “There’s another matter to attend. A warlord east of here is causing more trouble than I care to admit. Half our force stayed, the rest are waiting on us.”

Vicious nodded, “If I can convince a few of yours to stay here for a while, I’ll go with you instead.” He paused when Saladin froze, “To repay the debt.”

“Vicious is the best Risen I’ve ever seen! He always keeps his promises.” Mel was looking up at Saladin from her place among the wolves.

Vicious sighed, “Mel, quit telling people my secrets.”

“They aren’t even secrets!” She scoffed at him.

“Hey! Don’t ignore me, I’ll tag along.” Myst was laughing, and shoved Vicious’ shoulder to get his attention, “V knows I’m worth the trouble, right?”

“Deal.” Saladin interrupted their banter, “Three of my Lords and their wolves will stay until the matter in the east is settled.” He held out his hand to Vicious.

Vicious drew a blade from inside his armor, and sliced his hand, paying no mind to how Saladin tensed. Vicious shook his hand, minding the sting of his palm.

“Deal.”

* * *

 

_[ “Ignite” Jeff Williams, Casey Lee Williams, and Lamar Hall ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-uHgo7_ZtXs) _


	3. Vicious Meets Vengeance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The search for the most imperfect Rose brings Shin Malphur across a Vicious man, and, for vengeance, they’ll work together.

In the wild it’s a little alarming when somebody approaches your campfire. Vicious raised a small sphere shield around himself rather than get up from where he was leaning on a tree. The person who stepped into the ring of light from his fire looked worn and tired, even though they had a helmet and full armor on. They couldn’t disguise the set of their shoulders or slight drag of their feet. They stood for a second, staring at Vicious.

“You need a place to sleep?” Vicious thought it best to break the silence, scratching his nose to try and look casual. Better not to look like a coiled snake. Then it smacked him in the head like a brick. His eyes weren’t covered with blue; they knew who he was. “Hey, don’t freak out or anything, it’s chill. Si’ down if you want.”

They did, saying nothing. The person looked tense. Maybe scared?

“Okay my dude, I so swear that, while we’re in this camp together, I won’t try to hurt you  _ unless _ you try to hurt me first.” Vicious plucked a knife from his belt and cut part of his palm, letting the blood drip onto the dirt before Lalania closed the wound. “Feel better? I’m kinda assuming you froze like a deer-in-headlights ‘cause you know who I am.”

“Your name is Vicious.” He sat down in front of the fire, yanking off his gloves to warm his hands.

Vicious made a face, “I know my own name, thanks. What’s yours?”

“Shin.”

Vicious jolted. “Shin? Shin  _ Malphur _ ? Jaren’s boy?” A smile lit up his face, “How’s the big man?”

Shin’s head whipped to look at him, “You know Jaren?” His voice went from deadpan to reverence in one go. He dropped his gloves to pull off his helmet.

“Oof, he never mentioned me? I’ll have to tell him how hurt I am. We go way back, but he wanted to settle and I didn’t, so we split. Hard to keep in touch, you know?” Vicious finally dropped his shield. This night just got a hundred times better. He hadn’t seen or heard from Jaren in a decade at least, probably longer. Kinda missed him.

Shin choked on whatever he was trying to say. Vicious couldn’t understand what he him.

“Yikes, kid. Speak up, need water or something?” Reaching around his belt to unhook a canteen from it, Vicious shook his head. Kids these days. So excited they freeze.

“He’s gone.”

His blood ran cold, “What’cha mean, kid? He never wanted to leave Palamon.” Please don’t say it. Don’t say Jaren’s dead. Don’t.

Shin held something up in the firelight. The Last Word. Jaren would never have given-

Vicious rose from his spot with awe and grief in his eyes. “Can I see it? You don’t even have to let go.”

Shin looked away as Vicious touched the barrel, tilting it in the light. It wasn’t a fake. Vicious had been one of Jaren’s first friends. They travelled for a long time. He’d never forget meeting Jaren. Running into a rookie Undead in the middle of the night who was being chased by Eliksni, saving his ass. Learning his name. He remembered the first shot The Last Word fired. He remembered the showdown with Magistrate Loken for Palamon, and when Jaren said he was going to stay.

His knees felt weak. Vicious let them give. “Who?”

“Dredgen Yor.” Shin said the title with even more venom than the name. The syllables passed his lips like he was spitting out poison. The fire light danced, and Vicious’ eyes unfocused. Shin slowly put an arm across his back, clamping it on one of Vicious’ sides. That was something he picked up from Jaren, Vicious knew that.

Vicious dropped his grip on The Last Word to put his arm over Shin’s shoulders and pull him closer. If he felt like this, Vicious didn’t want to think about how the kid must feel. Jaren’s last letter was filled with stuff about him. How proud he was of this kid. How happy he was in Palamon, no matter how stoic he seemed. 

“I’ll help you find him.” He felt so cold, even though he was practically  _ in _ the fire. “Kill’s yours, but I want to see the  _ life  _ leave that  _ motherfucker’s eyes _ .” Again. He lost a friend  _ again _ by being the useless wanderer he was. If he’d been there. If he’d offered to join Jaren’s life for good.

“Okay.” Shin sounded upset. Like the wound death left on him was still fresh, “Together.”

* * *

 

_“Red Like Roses, Part 1” Original by Jeff and Casey Lee Williams_

_“Red Like Roses, Part 1” Cover by AmaLee_

_“Red Like Roses, Part 2” Original by Jeff and Casey Lee Williams_


	4. A Long, Vicious Life

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A young man named Shaxx crosses Vicious’ path, and, after a long time of being alive again, Vicious is going soft.

Nondescript town, nondescript bar, and people who didn’t even bother to try and remember one another’s faces. Vicious’ kind of place. His armor was covered under a thick cloak to ward off the winter chill, which permeated even the walls of the bar. Of course, that was also because everyone and their mamma already knew what his chestplate looked like.  _ I should really get a new one _ , Vicious swirled the glass of whatever-the-fuck it was, letting the hood of his cloak slide further down his face. The glowing blue eyes really didn’t help him keep a low profile, but at least Lalania could make them look a different color with a little light and some glimmer. After all, he couldn’t exactly get new  _ eyes _ just ‘cause everyone knew what his looked like.

The bar was crowded tonight. A new group of travellers was passing through, camping on the outskirts of town for the night. Vicious was listening intently to the chatter the travellers brought. News of some deaths, a couple new Warlords rising, the Iron Wolves on the move. And one loud-mouth near the door. Real loud. He wasn’t even  _ hammered _ and he was loud. Had good stories though, and Vicious could see truth in a lot of them. Hell, Vicious was  _ part _ of a few of the stories loud-mouth was telling.

After maybe an hour, the booming voice went quiet. Vicious was nursing some kind of...what was it? Kvass? And still watching the room. After all, he was getting paid to keep the place safe. Well, as safe as a bar can be for the day and age. It wasn’t as though the alcohol made much different to Undead. Most would have to knock back several shots in a row to get fucked up, and even then they wouldn’t be in for much of a hangover. That was good for him, he could down drinks to make people  _ think _ he was drunk off his ass, then surprise them if worse came to worst. Somebody sat at the other side of his little table. It didn’t surprise Vicious, there weren’t many seats available. What  _ did _ surprise him was a familiar voice. 

“Mind if I bother you?” The loud-mouth was more polite than Vicious would have expected. “I know you’re watching and all, but you can watch and talk, right?” Very polite. Young.

“How old are you, kid?” Vicious raised one side of his mouth in a shit-eating grin. He was really just a kid. You couldn’t tell from the shouting-voice, but his timbre was soft if he was being quiet. Almost sounded like a different person, but not quite.

“Ah, I came back about a year ago. I’ve been with these people since.” He sounded so honest. If he’d been running with the same people, he wouldn't have learned to distrust strangers yet. 

Vicious didn’t have any reason to teach him. “Well, welcome, for what it’s worth. I don’t mind if you wanna talk, just don’t distract me.” This kid looked alive. Not tired or worn-down, but truly alive. Bright eyes, a smile that wasn’t forced or fake, shoulders straight. Pride and hope were almost written on his skin. Vicious didn’t see enough people like him anymore. “Wha’cha want?”

“I came to ask if you had any good tales. You seem, pardon me, old.” The youngster shifted in his seat, perhaps uncomfortable with sounding so forward. 

“Yes, yes I  _ am _ old.” Vicious snorted, “ And y eah, I got stories. Anything partic’ler you wanna hear ‘bout? I’m here ‘till dawn, so ain’t like there’s no time.” Vicious kicked himself a little. He hadn’t been this nice to anyone in a while, ‘cept the bartender. But...this kid wasn’t hurt by the world yet, and that meant something to him. Vicious had been around for more than seven hundred years so far, give or take two decades. That was plenty of time to be jaded. Maybe too much time.

“I’ll listen to just about anything. Thank you, by the way, my name’s Shaxx. Yours?” Shaxx smiled at him, and Vicious’ heart felt warm. Being honest about how he was could be dangerous, but he couldn’t lie to the kid...consequences be damned.

He closed his eyes, and tapped the table twice to alert Lala, who clicked a bit of her shell against his armor from where she was hidden in his cloak. When he opened his eyes, they were no longer blue. They were green, and riddled with flecks of caustic purple. “Name’s Vicious.”

The look of shock on Shaxx’s face was worth the risk.

* * *

 

_“The Real Folk Blues” Original by Seatbelts_

_“The Real Folk Blues” Cover by Adrisaurus_


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vicious turns down an offer, and, afterwards, fucks up a bit.

“No thanks.” Vicious was fairly cornered by three people. There was, technically speaking, a way out. Not a nice way out, but hey, jumping off cliff is _a_ way. Dredgens were really hard to escape from. Especially if there was more than one. He’d half let them catch up to see what they wanted, but this was turning into a real mess. “I think I’m good.”

Their leader shifted. She was frowning at him, robe’s swaying in the breeze. “That isn’t what I wanted to hear.”

“I’m sorry.” Vicious shrugged at her, “I won’t join a cause if I don’t like it.”

She stepped even closer. That was a mistake, but whatever. “You could be even more powerful. You’re already a legend, think about what you could have with the dark.” Her eyes shined frighteningly bright for a human. That was _downright_ disturbing.

“See, I’d think about it, but somebody I’m sure you know...” Vicious stepped nose-to-nose with her, breathing into her space, “Killed a person I loved.”

She didn’t back away, and Vicious smiled. _She has balls._ “Who?”

“Oh, you want to know?” Vicious’ hand shot up to her throat and crushed _it_ . “ _Jaren Ward was mine._ ” The word ‘mine’ roared from his throat like a battle-cry.

Her companions shot him in the torso more than a few times, but Vicious barely flinched. They underestimated the Cold in his body. Their bullets barely touched him before turning to dust. Just like their leader’s head. He threw her body at one of her subordinates. He collapsed under the weight of his boss’ body, dropping his gun.

The second lackey was an idiot. He tried to summon Bright at Vicious. He managed to sear a handprint into Vicious’ armor before dying. It was amusing how these assholes thought three undead could coerce him into anything. They said it themselves, he was a legend. It wasn’t for no reason!

The other undead was regaining his composure, drawing a gun, but he was too close. Same mistake as her boss. Vicious didn’t bother to do anything but slam one gauntleted hand into their helmet. It caved in.

“Calm down.” Lalania sighed from someplace in his clothes. “Find their companions to crush, but calm down. Concentrate.”

Vicious muttered obscenities at her, rifling through the boss’ packs to find a shivering little companion. He crushed it before it could beg for its life. Same thing happened one more time, but apparently the third person in the group didn’t have one. Or at least it wasn’t on him. Oh well.

“The nerve of these guys, Lala.” Vicious grumbled, “I’m tired of this. Can’t you find another undead? Maybe one that’s nicer?”

Lala shifted, “You can’t be serious.”

Vicious contemplated, “Can you even do that? Wait, of course you can do that. Jaren’s companion did.”

“I’ll think about it.” Lala sounded sad. Sadder than he’d meant to make her. He’d spoken carelessly, but this wasn’t the first time. Vicious had made the suggestion before. He was getting weary. Two thousand or so years being alive and roaming around, and for what? Losing people, killing, destroying, being unhappy. Lalania liked to talk about a grand design that her creator had, but she sounded tired, too, sometimes.

“Lala...I’m sorry. You know I love you, and you’re one of the only friends I have left, but I’m tired.” Vicious started to walk away from the three bodies, leaving them on the cliffside. So, technically, he guessed, there were two ways out after all.

Lala was quiet for some minutes, “I’ll make a deal with you.”

“What kind of deal?” Vicious was surprised, Lala had never, ever wanted to _deal_ with him. She’d always insisted she was above it. Before now, Vicious thought she was right. Lala was too good for deals. Too perfect and pure.

“Fifty more years. While we travel, I’ll look for someone new.” Her shell tapped him with a jitter, “If I can’t find someone in that time, I’ll let you go. If I find them before that, then you can go before. After another fifty years... _I’ll free you._ ”

And now there’s _another_ way out.

“Lala...”

* * *

  _[“The Other Side” The Greatest Showman](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Wk008ADh4iY)_

_[“The Tailor of Enbizaka” Cover by Oktavia](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8xqmwMEE-6o) _

_[“Adieu” Seatbelts](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ws8X31TTB5E) _

_[“Adieu” Cover by Adisaurus](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tgfpiz7Sr6U) _


	6. A Vicious Ally

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The story of how Vicious got into shit with the Reef, and how he came to know the Cult of the Trinity Star.

“So whos this message from again?” Vicious was on top of a ridge, looking down a sniper rifle scope at a grassy knoll. In the center of it laid a set of coordinates he was asked to meet at. Since the Trinity Star went to the  _ extensive _ trouble of getting his com channel code, Vicious thought it was only polite to show up. 

Lalania hummed from within his cloak, “They’re calling themselves the Cult of the Trinity Star. They have an insignia with a skeletal moose and everything. Very elegant.” She didn’t sound concerned. “If you want to be fashionably early you’d better get down there.”

Vicious frowned, but rolled back from the edge of the drop to get up and sling his rifle back over his shoulders. “Yeah, yeah.” The invitation was pretty vague, but generic. ‘We humbly request your presence.’ ‘It would delight us to meet with you.’ It went on for a half page.Vicious couldn’t tell if they wanted him to join their cult thing or if it was a job offer. He’d heard of them, certainly. A mysterious group who thought the Traveller was evil. That perhaps it lured things to planets in order to destroy entire worlds, giving the inhabitants Light as a sick joke or to watch them struggle.

Some ten minutes later, he waited, visible, at the edge of the trees. His cloak was tossed back to show the shining colours of his chestplate. Different shades of glossy enamel covered the front, hues of purple separated by likes of grey and gold to make a design like no other. There were no imposters who could replicate it well enough to pass as Vicious, it was as good as an ID card. At the treeline opposite from where he stood, someone emerged. 

“Oh good, I didn’t get stood up.” Vicious smiled. Lala couldn’t see his face, but he knew she could hear the expression in his voice. He started to walk forward, pulling slowly at the Cold light under his skin. If someone very, very stupid took a shot at him the bullet would never make it to his body. But that would just be them asking for trouble. More than trouble, actually, it would be asking for the death of their cause.

“What can I do for you?” Vicious smiled easily, one hand resting on his hip, above the holster of a hand cannon. It was to be expected, honestly. Vicious was the vulnerable party in the situation,  so of course he’d be quick to draw. 

The person shifted, clasping their hands low in front of them. Their helmet shined lowly in the cloudy day, reflecting Vicious’ own face. On the bright side, he could see behind himself. “We have a contract to offer.”

Vicious smiled wider, “He-ey, now you have my attention. As you probably know, I need the target’s name before I can accept.” Vicious drew a small knife from his belt, and drew the sharp edge across one of his bare palms. “And if I do not accept, none will know who you seek.” It was the same sentence every time. Another thing that would tip people off to somebody pretending to be Vicious. 

The person shifted, this time forward slightly, “Corsair Nala Lunye of the Reef Awoken.” Bitter made a ‘tsk’ noise. That would be trouble. A lot of trouble. Maybe even with a Sov. That name rang a bell, she was under the Queen’s Wrath. Specifically...Nala was her second in combat, the next rank down from Wrath.  _ Getting _ to the reef was hard, but killing someone inside? Almost impossible.

“Oh. Oh, I accept.” His fingers flexed.  _ This was going to be fun _ .


	7. Vicious Sacrifice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vicious creates the in game Titan class item titled “The Mark of Sacrifice.”

 

**Warning: Final Death**

* * *

It was a hard day. Dusk was settling over freshly turned earth at the edge of a looming pine forest. Four rectangles, clearly dug and marked with a cairn of stones. Each pile was carefully constructed so it would last against the years.

Vicious’ eyes were long dry. It wasn’t the first time he’d loved and lost friends. Every time he told himself he wouldn’t make new ones to lose. Every time a new set of strangers walked into his life and made themselves at home in it like they were meant to be there. How many gravesites did this make? Twelve? Thirteen? If he bothered to ask Lala she would know.

His light clothes were damp with sweat from the labor of digging. Four graves in one day, a day after dragging their corpses to a place they could rest in peace. Eventually, with their proximity to the treeline, the roots of trees would intertwine with the bones of his friends. Back into the earth where they belonged. Where they could all sleep.

“I miss them already.” Lala’s voice was quiet. She was watching over his gear a few meters away.

Vicious frowned, “I know.” He stared at his handiwork, “I know.” He was almost done here. It pained him to step around the graves and sift through his pack. After a bit of rummaging, Vicious seized a burlap pouch. Flower and grass seeds. A wild mix from the nearest city that sold it. He hoped they would like the colors.

He saw Lala shift on top of his bag, looking at him with her single, bright optic. “Can you keep going?” She was trying to ask if he could bear to sleep near his friends one last time. Vicious knew it, but apathy met her question.

“Does it matter?” He scattered the seeds with equal parts care and reckless abandon, love for his friends and anger at their death conflicted his actions. They would continue to cloud his judgment for the rest of the day, and the better part of the next week.

Lala transmatted Vicious’ armor back onto his body, “No.” Her little bell-tone was so quiet.

“Love you.” Vicious looked at the cairns, “Always will.”

“Love you, always will.” Lalania repeated it in a voice as reverent and sadness-strained as Vicious’.

It was late into the night that they returned to their ship, taking off into the atmosphere. There weren’t a whole lot of crafts that could make it out of Earth’s gravity, and even fewer that were solar powered. They could drift around the Earth for some time, the sun recharging ship equipment every rotation. The place itself was big enough for two at most, just a modified Eliksni skiff.

“Lala, keep us out of trouble.” Vicious’ sigh was heavy, and he started to pull off his armor. Lala never bothered to move it herself unless it seemed needed, and she’d seen Vicious like this enough times to know that he wanted to be alone. When all the pieces were laid out Vicious stared at them for a long time. He could see the new chips and warps in the pieces from battle, knowing exactly which ones were new and which ones had been there for a hundred years or more.

He hooked a thumb into his belt, clenching his jaw and eyes shut. He was getting old. Old and sentimental. In his bag were scraps of cloth. Pieces of his friends’ armor. A cloak here, robe there, a sash, a scarf. Pieces of what they wore. Vicious pulled scissors, a needle, and thread from a small cabinet and slid down one of the walls. Time to get started.

“Message.” Lala interrupted his thoughts and the start of his work.

He shifted, “From?”

“Myst.” She paused, “It’s an invitation to catch up.” Vicious was quiet at that. Did he even want to see anyone? Let alone somebody as cheery as Mysterious.

“We’re going.” Lalania decided for him.

Ignoring further interruption, Vicious spent hours cutting, sewing, clenching his fists at memories. In the end he held a beautiful amalgam of his friends. A design swirled in the colors from pieces cut and sewn back together, some of the seams were even embroidered over with care. Thread colors varied. Black, white, blue, yellow, even a bright pink he’d picked up from a ruined cabin.

“Lala, embed something poetic into it.” Vicious sighed and stretched out on the floor, the cloth resting on his chest for her to see.

Vicious watched her scan the cloth carefully, memorizing it’s structure and staring at it on levels that Vicious’ eyes couldn’t see. Lala looked at every weave and thread, contemplating.

_“Sometimes the mark will tangle in the armor. Shred it without hesitation, for it, too, is prepared to sacrifice.”_

* * *

 

_["Solar Waltz"  Cosmo Sheldrake](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MkQW5xr9iGc) _

_[“Last Weekend” The Tiny](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CJZ0T9OQb-4) _

_[“If I Could I Would Feel Nothing” Blackbear](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mMxHFQirXqg) _


	8. Bar-fight Turned Vicious

New town, new bar, new _hot_ bartender. Vicious was used to the first two, but the third was a different phenomenon. He’d been alive quite some time, and a few people caught his eye, but this guy. This guy was smooth, but sharp too. It was crowded in the bar, but his eyes were on the door all the time, stealing glances when someone came or went.

If Vicious were new to the world, the intensity of the bartender’s eyes would have startled him. Now, though, he was just curious. The guy looked like an Undead. Most of them just seemed like people, but not this one. Vicious looked like an Undead, too, but with his eyes disguised and cloak covering his armor, his state was more normal than usual. He made his way up to the bar and smiled, tossing his hood back to let his tail of black hair spill out.

“Hey, what can I get ‘ya?” The bartend was attentive, but he didn’t come over straight away. That was nice. Gave Vicious time to stare at the board with drinks listed on it behind the bar.

“I dunno what a ‘Knockout’ is but it’s expensive and _that_ interests me. One’a those.” Vicious handed over his glimmer outright. That was usually a good way to get smiles out of a bartender. Plus he had spare glimmer lying around to tip decently. It wasn’t like living wild cost much, and his jobs were more than enough income.

The bartend laughed, “It’s made to knock Risen on their asses.” His movements around the bar were almost a dance. He was fluid, and reminded Vicious of several street performers he’d seen. Still calling the Undead, or Light-bearers now, ‘Risen’ was a tip off. This guy was old as fuckin’ dirt. Almost as old as Vicious.

Vicious had expected him to return with something like a shot glass, maybe one of those fancy martini things, but this shit came in a _tankard_. That was frightening. “What’s your name? So I know what to say when I have to shake you awake tomorrow morning.”

His heart stuttered. The bartender’s smile was far, far too charming. “I’m V.”

“Call me Ming, Wu Ming, and try not to get into any trouble tonight. Hate to see somebody pretty as you get scraped off the floor later.” He turned away to grab somebody else’s drink. If he was going to be like _that_ Lalania would have to drag Vicious away from this town. T’ hell with being on the other side of the bar, he wanted to be in Wu Ming’s _bed_.

Vicious drained half the tankard in one go, and regretted it instantly. It felt like Cold light in his mouth. He squinted into the tankard, what the _fuck_ was this shit made of? When the door slammed open he turned around so fast his spine should have snapped. A voice shouted into the now silent room “Where’s Harris? I know he’s in here!”

Somebody in one of the corners stood up so fast his chair tipped over, “Yeah, whos fuckin’ asking?”

“Efrideet, Iron Lady.” She drew a fucking _sword_ . Oh no. Oh no, this is a nice bar. The bar _tender_ is nice.

Vicious stood up immediately, “Woah! Hey, guys, take it outside!” His tone was friendly, adding hints of laughter to try and lighten the atmosphere.

Efrideet broke a chair with one swing of the sword.

“Like the fella said, outside, please.” Wu Ming piped up from behind the bar, “That was a perfectly good chair, Lady.”

The guy, Harris, launched himself at her, crackling with Shock. She launched him back into a wall with a fist. Fuck. He broke through the first layer of the wall, splintering wood with his back. Two more people stood up from where Harris had come from, and threw themselves at Efrideet. That ended up in two smashed tables, a door halfway off it’s hinges, and Vicious walking up to Efrideet.

“Okay, please leave. I’ll scrape them off the walls and throw them outside for you.” Vicious crossed his arms, using the action to open his cloak. He tapped his foot on the floor twice for Lala. His eyes regained their green and caustic purple colouring, the false blue fading.

Efrideet raised her sword, and, quicker than a snake, Vicious took hold of the blade. It turned to dust. He leaned back, raising a leg. She was still in front of the door. His heel connected with her chestplate, and Efrideet went flying the same way Harris had when she punched him and broke the wall. The force of the hydraulics in his armor only made Vicious’ kick send her further. A footstep sounded behind him, and Vicious looked over his shoulder to see Wu Ming holding Harris by the neck like a troublesome puppy.

He tossed the guy out, and a few more patrons did the same to his friends. Some of the customers were gathering up bits of tables and chairs to pile them in the corner. This was probably something that went down every month, at least. To Ming’s credit, though, his companion was probably really good at melding things back together with glimmer as a kind of catalyst or binding agent.

Ming climbed up on a bar stool and called, “We’ll be closed tomorrow to fix this shit.” After that, he got down...and continued to mix drinks. Vicious hadn’t expected that. Everyone in the bar ignored the commotion outside.

“Thanks. That would’ve gotten messy.” Wu Ming smiled at him. It looked almost genuine.

Vicious blinked, “Oh, don’t sweat it. You have a nice place, shame to destroy it.” He picked up the tankard of Knockout and threw the rest of it back. The effects from drinking the first half were starting to drag at his limbs, and he liked it. “If I make it through the night, I’ll help you fix the tables.”

Ming grinned wider, “Dangerously nice of you, I’ll take all the help I can get. How long you stayin’ in town?”

Vicious bit the inside of his lip, not quite thinking straight. The drink was _really_ strong. “If all the guys are as good-looking as you, a while. Especially if those guys are lookin’ for _company_.”

The response he got was a laugh, and it was music to his ears.

* * *

 

_[“Pretty Little Head” Eliza Rickman](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=c-vHEw5ocD4) _

_[“Therefore, You and Me” Cover by DIANA and DEX](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Qcs5pMpsaPY) _

_[“Do I Wanna Know?” Cover by Hozier](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xSbAFPeIv8Q) _


	9. Chapter 9

 

**Warning: Worse than canon violence**

* * *

 

 _“Say that again.”_ Vicious’ voice was a quiet hiss in the bar. Someone could hear a pin drop. He’d been minding his own business before a drunk Undead decided to pick a fight. He was new in town, Vicious was not. The people here figured out who he was a few days ago, when an Iron Wolf named Efrideet had to be kicked out of the bar. Thankfully, the patrons had the decency not to change how they acted toward him.

Seeing this, the drunk didn’t think Vicious was the _real_ Vicious.

“You heard me!” He was big guy, heavily armored. The only thing missing was his helmet. His armor was heavier than Vicious’, and that was almost impressive.

Vicious got up slowly from his seat. “Please save my chair.” His tone was completely civil to the bartender and Myst, who both nodded at him with equal parts nervousness and anticipation.

“You got it,” Mysterious clapped their hands together, ready for the show, “Get ‘em V.”

Wu Ming’d only seen Vicious kick Efrideet out when it was necessary. This was different. _Very_ different. Vicious walked leisurely over to the undead. “Let’s go outside.”

The idiot snorted, “You’re not worth my time.”

Vicious laughed, and his hand shot forward to grab the Undead by the throat. Vicious lifted him out of his seat, and so far into the air that his feet didn’t touch the ground. “I don’t think-” Vicious laughed, “I don’t think you get it! I said let’s go outside!” He was careful not to choke the Undead to death as he made his way out of the bar. The patrons dragged chairs out of his way, and someone had the politeness to hold the door for him. Vicious didn’t react when the Undead tried to kick him, scrabble at his wrist, bend his arm or break it. None of it phased him. He’d already been in a shit mood when this asshole walked in. The older he got, the less patient he was. Vicious had turned even further into his namesake.

“I’ll have a double Knockout, this is gonna be a long night.” Myst’s voice was a sigh that Vicious almost laughed at.

The guy finally seemed to realize he made a mistake. However, it was too late. Vicious dropped him in the middle of the empty street outside the bar, and immediately stomped on the Undead’s knee with his hydraulics active.

It crunched.

The undead screamed.

Vicious laughed.

Long night indeed.

* * *

 

_[“Courtesy Call” Thousand Foot Krutch](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ocpDEOXABWg) _

_[“Man or a Monster” Sam Tinnesz, Zayde Wolf](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pEnPq_fa8z4) _


	10. Chapter 10

**Warning: Final death, light implied suicide**

* * *

 

It was time. That was all Vicious could think of. It was finally time. The fifty years was almost up, but three were left. Lalania hovered over a newly dug hole in the forest floor. She’d asked Vicious to dig out her new Undead. Of course he did it for her. The sky was clear and blue, late afternoon sun shining through the boughs and leaves of trees. Lala was settled on the ground near the hole.

“Lala?” Vicious’ voice was different. Choked, full of something indescribable.

Her topmost shell bit clicked as it turned lazily in circles over her optic, “Yes?” She looked at ease.

“Do you, um, think I’ll dream? I want to dream of  _ him. _ ” Vicious thought of the bartender, Eli. His smile, his laugh, the way Eli made his heart twist when they woke up next to each other. 

Then his mind shifted to Shin, roaming the world looking for Dredgens. Lord Saladin Forge, working to form and keep some semblance of peace with his Iron Wolves. Shaxx, the young man who loved stories. Jaren, who was gone like so  _ many  _ others. “It hurts.”

Lala hummed at him, “I know it does. Feels empty, right? I feel the same way.”

“How can I just leave everyone I know? Will you hide my gear or destroy it? Will you tell Eli what happened? What about  _ Myst _ ? I just found them again.” Vicious was hurting. He was tired. So tired, but what about everyone else? The ones who remained? It was harder to be left behind than to leave. “Will...will anyone know you’re my Lala?”

There was silence for a long minute. “Vicious.” He turned to look at her. She never called him that name. “I’ll give your things to someone we know. Eli will know you aren’t coming back. I don't think he expected you to stay.”

The leaves rustled in the wind. “My name won’t be Lala anymore. I want something new. I picked...Shimmer. It reminds me of how your eyes looked when we first met. So bright. I hope this one’s eyes are bright.”

“I...” Vicious choked up. He raised a hand up to his face to stare at the light emanating from his irises. Where they used to be green, there was purple. Some fingers on that hand were missing, as well. They'd been frostbitten too many times for Lala to fix anymore. “I love you.”

Shimmer laughed. “I love you too. I’ll make sure you live forever, but this time with stories.” Her laugh was pure and clear, like bells. “Now, it’s time.”

Vicious raised a gun.  _ Time to rest _ . He hummed a lullaby for himself.

When they found his body, it was overgrown with siberian squill and chamomile flowers.

* * *

_[“Do I Wanna Know?” Cover by Hoizer](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xSbAFPeIv8Q) _

_[ “The End of All Things” Pan!c at the Disco ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YSWIfX_MNCY) _

_“Warmth” Ar Tonelico II: Melody of Metafalica _

_[ “Therefore, You and Me” Cover by DIANA and DEX ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Qcs5pMpsaPY) _

 


End file.
